The Misadventures of Katie Finch: The 76th Hunger Games
by unicorns5ever
Summary: Haymitch Abernathy was never in the Games. Primrose Everdeen's name was never called. Peeta Mellark came home to District Twelve in one piece - for the most part. The rebellion is nonexistent. The story kicks off right after the third Quarter Quell, following the story Katie Finch, a fifteen year old who's wasted far too many chances. Will the Games be any different?
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

**Chapter One: The Beginning of the End**

The day was bright and I had to shield my eyes with my arm. It was hot, really hot, and I was glad that I was wearing a sleeveless dress.

"Do we _have_ to go?" my little brother, Rafael, whined as he bumped his shoulder into my arm.

"Yes," is all I was bothered to say to him. He'd been annoying me all day, ruining one of my dresses with a bucket of paint and breaking my vanity mirror while playing a game of catch. And the heat wasn't doing any good to my mood either.

I pretty much ignored him the whole walk, him whining that it was so hot that he would collapse, but I just stomped through it and pretended he didn't exist. He was twelve, way past the age of diapers and bottles, though far from stopping being the actual baby he was inside. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stared straight ahead into the direction of the Town Square.

I'm Katie Finch. It's a common first name in the district, and I know at least three other Katie's in my school. But the thing is, most of the other Katie's are blonde and have hazel eyes, like plenty others in District Nine. My hair is a auburn which I apparently inherited from my grandmother. I like my hair, I really do. It's sort of flat but the curliness makes up for it and I cut it to reach my shoulders. My hazel eyes are common, but I still think that hazel eyes are pretty. But maybe just not on _me_.

None of my other family members have the same hair as I do; they're all brunettes, including Rafael. His hair was always cut in a sort of buzz-cut because he thought it made him look tougher, though unbeknownst to him it only makes him look more like a baby. Right now his face was red and chubby and his mouth was twisted into a scowl as he followed me, not much happier than I was.

I had an older brother, too. Kevin. He's rarely around, though, and he's often going around places either drinking or working on his car in his garage that he rented with his own money. He looks like an older version of me – if you ignore the fact that he has darker hair, some sort of stubble and, you know, he's a man. He's twenty, safe and away from the Games, so I never really see him much ever since he left.

"Katie!" Rafael yelled from somewhere behind me, quite far away considering how pissed he sounded. I was pretty pissed too, so I kept walking and didn't pay any attention to the boy screaming my name.

It was when the crowds started gathering that I realized that Rafael wasn't just screaming, but he was _shrieking._ Not just my name, but my full name, with even my stupid middle name for the entire goddamned world to hear. It rang in my ears over and over again and I could feel eyes on me as the kid stood their yelling like a banshee.

"KATHERINE BELLA FINCH!" was the last of it I heard before I was swarmed and overwhelmed with the flood of strangers.

_Crap,_ I thought right then and there. _I lost him._

I wasn't that worried, to be honest. I mean, the kid was twelve, I get that, but he was old enough to understand how the process works – line up, get your finger pricked, line up again in your section, wait for it to be over, and then go home. Sure, stuff happens in between, like maybe one of your friends is picked, but I guess that's how it goes when you're in Panem.

So I got my finger pricked without Rafael. He's somewhere out there, probably cursing the universe and its findings for making me his sister, but he's safe. He knows what would happen to him if he didn't follow the peacekeepers' orders, so he's safe.

There were only a few people in the Square who I recognized. Most of them weren't even from my school (they had three different schools in District Nine) and the few I did know were barely acquaintances. As you've figured, I'm not one to make many friends. I passed by all of them, keeping my head down.

It took a few minutes, but I eventually ended up somewhere in the midst of fifteen year old girls, staring at the temporary stage at the front. The structure was quite tall so that everyone could see, or at least vaguely see, the figures standing there. Right now there were just a few peacekeepers and what I thought was the district's mayor on the stage, finishing up the preparations. Mayor Clint brushed imaginary dust off his coat before stepping up in front of the microphone.

"Hello, District Nine," he said grimly. Being a mayor was an important job, I guess, and it couldn't have been that bad but nobody in the districts liked the Hunger Games. Nobody.

A hush swept over the Town Square like a wave of silence. I hugged my forearms and stared at the mayor's blatant and grim face.

"It's the time of the year again," he said. I could see it in his eyes that it wasn't in a good way, but he forced a smile. "The Choosing of the Tributes for the 71st Hunger Games."

_Seventy one years,_ I thought. _Seventy-one years of pain and torture and hell._

He continued his speech, along with the Treaty of Treason. I struggled to keep my eyes open – well, not really. It was such a sweltering hot day that everyone felt more like we were on fire rather than being tired from having to wake up early.

When he was done, Mayor Clint finished with a, "Good luck, District Nine," before stepping down and letting escort step in front of the microphone.

Temple Claudé, a woman with puffy, curly white hair and absolutely flawless skin, smiled at everyone. She was actually kind of pretty and young, and she could do without all the Capitol makeup and fashions. This year, she wore some sort of peach silk dress with a black and white scarf.

"Happy Hunger Games, District Nine!" she called out with her arms spread out wide. The cameras trained on her, getting closer shots. "Before I get on with the Choosing of the Tributes, it's time for the yearly movie that the Capitol has presented for us."

They played it. The screen rolls down and we didn't even use a projector because it's so sunny. Instead, the screen flickered and it's like watching a huge TV with a lot better quality. They played the same video they've played for the past seventy-one years, the same video they played every year, the same video they played in one of the channels on TV over and over again because it's somehow supposed to be educational. I've long ago decided against watching it, because I've got better things to worry about.

_What would happen to me if I was reaped? What would happen if I had to die? What if _Rafael_ was picked? What would happen to us after that?_

Before I realized it the video is over and Temple was making her way to the large glass bowl on the left of the stage. It was filled with so many names, half of them probably repeated who knows how many times. District Nine was a regular sized district with big families, the biggest one I know having about ten kids. How do they raise those kids by themselves? With the minimal help of the tesserae, I doubted they could even survive through it all, let alone be healthy enough to for through the Games. I swear, the tesserae is honestly the only thing I can think of that comes close to an idea so bad as the Hunger Games.

Temple picked a name and as she pulled it out, I felt myself flinch unwillingly. Was that the feeling that you got just before your fate is decided? I'd never felt the same before, but this year, oh hell, this year it's different. When she breaks the seal, I could tell. No good would come out of her reading that name out, but she does, and it's like the entire world is falling on top of you and breaking you into pieces until you're just little clumps of dust.

"Katherine Finch!"

_She didn't call my middle name_, I thought. But still, she called my name and that was enough for my mind to reel.

* * *

**School's almost over! Whoo! I'll be getting loads and loads of chances to write this summer vacation [not saying that I will use them, I'm terribly lazy] so I decided to publish this. Whaddaya think? Review and I will love you forever :3 I'll be hoping to update this weekly, so keep a look out for more!**

**~Nat**


	2. Chapter 2: Farewells of the Not Lost

**Chapter Two: Farewells of the Not Lost**

My knees buckled over and it took all of my willpower not to topple onto the ground. _I'm reaped_, is all that goes through my brain. _I'm reaped, I'm reaped, I've been reaped, I'm reaped._

For once, people knew me. They knew that I'm over here in the fifteen year olds section, panicking, breathing heavily. How could they suddenly recognize me right at the time when I _don't_ want them to know me? And like that, all the cameras focus on me, and the entire nation has, or will have, its eyes on me.

_I'm reaped_, I thought.

And that was it. That was the one phrase, like a little mantra, running up and down my nerve system so that I thought or felt nothing more than the fact that _I'm reaped_. I took a step forward and soon I realized that two or three peacekeepers are coming my way. I didn't want them anywhere near me.

My feet moved subconsciously and I'm taken away from the safety of the crowd, out in the open for all eyes to see. _I'm reaped_ is going on and on and on in my brain with nothing else and I'm walking, walking, walking until I reach the steps. Temple, closer to me than I'd ever been, smiles almost pityingly at me. She's been through this for a few years, but just like every other escort we've ever had, she'll come accustomed to it and soon won't feel as much as she does now. Probably won't feel a thing.

She took my hand and I let her and soon I was standing by her side, blank eyes with barely any emotion for the entirety of Panem to see.

"Give it up for Katherine Finch!" she said, and my head dropped, my eyes staring at the floor. A minimal forced round of clapping was heard.

I no longer had the will to look up. _I'm reaped_, I thought. _I'm reaped, I'm reaped, I've been reaped, I'm reaped._

Then I realized. Now, Rafael could be reaped. Little Rafael, somewhere in the twelve year olds, staring up at his big sister who left him and was going to leave him again. The nothingness in me was replaced by guilt swirling around inside my gut. _Why did I ever leave him?_

So when she broke the seal of a second name, I couldn't help but look up a little, as she takes a breath and opens her mouth to say it out loud. _Not Rafael Finch, not Rafael Marcus Finch._

"Cameron Hillard!"

My parents didn't even come to say goodbye to me. They were at home, the news probably not far from reaching them. When the peacekeepers shoved me into the crying room, I had sort of expected my entire family to burst through the doors and hug me and cry with me and tell me that everything was alright, but nobody came for the first five minutes. I knew I was wasting time.

I sat on one of the chairs. The room was ornately decorated, and dare I say it, overly luxurious for somewhere you're saying final goodbyes to your loved ones. I couldn't help but let a few tears drip down my chin, and I closed my eyes, repeating the phrase _I'm reaped, I'm reaped_ again and again because at least then I wouldn't feel anything. At least then, I wouldn't feel the pain of losing my family.

It's when the door opened that I realized that my time was probably up. A peacekeeper had come to get me… or had they? There was sobbing echoing through the room, and I was pretty sure that a peacekeeper wouldn't be crying at this time.

_Rafael!_ I looked up and there he was, my little brother with his chubby baby-face and his puffy eyes and his stupid buzz cut. There he was, Rafael, the one I was so pissed at this morning.

He ran at me, and I expected him to throw his arms around me but instead he hit me across the arm. It wasn't that hard, but it stung and I stared at him like he'd never done it before – and believe me, he has.

"You left me," he croaked. "You left me and now you're not coming back.

And the pain floods me once again and I burst into tears, because it was true. I was a terrible sister, the worst he could ever ask for.

"I'm sorry," I whispered and took his face in my hands and held him closer than I'd ever held him before. I hugged him really really tight and never planned on letting him go as I cried and cried and he cried and cried and it was just a huge mess of tears.

I didn't even care if he was ruining _this_ dress as well.

But the time came and the peacekeeper opened the door. He grabbed Rafael by the arms but Rafael screamed and yelled and cried but he was pulled away, and I could hear his voice down the hallway, kicking and shouting and struggling until he became completely silent. I sobbed. _What had they done to him? Oh God, I'm reaped, I'm reaped, I'm reaped-_

And then, once again, the door opens and bangs against the wall. This time with the heavy stomping of the boots on the floor, I was sure it was the peacekeeper coming to get me, but it wasn't. There, in all his glory, was my older brother Kevin.

I hadn't seen him for nearly six months.

We stared at each other and I thought for a moment if he wasn't real. Maybe he was a hallucination? After the way he left us six months ago, I'd thought that maybe he was just a fragment of my imagination mistakenly imprinted into my memory, but he was real. Kevin Finch was real, oh so real.

"Katie," he breathed, as if he couldn't believe it either.

I blinked, and then glared. What else was I supposed to do? "What are you doing here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hello to you too."

"Answer my question." I folded my arms across my stomach, eyes still narrowed.

"I came to see you off," he answered, hands shoved into pockets. Kevin's brown eyes, which are brown and not hazel, cast themselves away from me and he wouldn't make eye contact.

Then, after a length of silence, he spoke again. "No matter what I said, no matter the fact that Dad disowned me, you're still my little sister. You're still the little Squirt who pisses me off like no other."

I couldn't help but sort of give him a half-smile. "I know."

Then he opened up his arms. I walked forward and just hugged him. "Where's Rafael?" I asked weakly.

"I saw him," Kevin answered in not much more than a whisper. "He's alright. They just knocked him out with some morphine."

I winced. "He hates needles."

"I know," he said, pulling away. He grinned as he put his hands on my shoulders. "That's why I'd better go get him."

"You'd better," I mumbled.

Kevin roughed up my hair like he always did, but I didn't really care because Kevin was back. I just knew, I just knew that even if I left, Rafael would be fine and so would Mom and Dad because Kevin is back and he'll do everything to protect them. I know he will, because that's Kevin.

When he left, the peacekeepers finally came to take me away.

_I'm reaped,_ I remembered. _I'm reaped, I'm reaped, I've been reaped, I'm reaped._

But maybe it won't be that bad.

* * *

**I kind of forgot about this story. Whoops. But anyways, here's the goodbyes! You get to meet Katie's district partner in the next chapter :3 Since I didn't get any last time, REVIEW! You get cookies if you do!**

**~Nat**


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